


When the Stars are Out

by pudding_bretzel



Series: Falsities and Regrets [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Violence, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Jason is a mutant, Mutation, No X-Men, Sparky is a good girl, and adorable, they exist in this universe but they're not part of this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 22:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pudding_bretzel/pseuds/pudding_bretzel
Summary: Jason slowly opened his eyes.It was dark in the room. The light that had previously lit the room had been turned off and left Jason and his little companion alone in the darkness of the night. Soft lights filtered through the windows, the gloomy Gotham night reaching into the room and lighting the room just enough for Jason to see that his parents had left and he was alone.Or: Jason and his mother in the aftermath of another of his parents' fights.





	When the Stars are Out

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me a little while ago, but only recently took real shape. After Defying Fate I wanted to explore this whole mutant thing a bit more. This series is focused on how Jason lives with his mutation and what life has in store for him because of it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this first part of the series!

_It was quiet._

_That was the first thing Jason noticed when he lifted his hands from his ears. The spot on his cheek where Sparky had licked him to gain his attention was still wet. Finally removing his hands from his ears completely, Jason wiped away the saliva with his sleeve and listened._

_There were no more shouts or screams, no more glass breaking when it collided with the floor or other furniture – it had to have been furniture, right?_

_He couldn’t hear his father’s angry shouting anymore. Neither could he hear his mother’s slurred voice, pleading and chocking on suppressed screams._

_Jason slowly opened his eyes._

_It was dark in the room. The light that had previously lit the room had been turned off and left Jason and his little companion alone in the darkness of the night. Soft light filtered through the windows, the gloomy Gotham night reaching into the room and lighting it just enough for Jason to see that his parents had left and he was alone._

_Alone, except for his faithful companion that never left his side during times like these. The one thing that still made him feel safe, even when he felt the table over him shake under the pressure of a blow, delivered by one of his parents._

_After confirming he was truly alone in the room, Jason crawled out from under the table. Small hands were pushing an equally small body up, when the silence was suddenly filled with a hiss followed by a hushed curse. Sharp pain blossomed in Jason’s left hand and he quickly lifted it up for a closer inspection. Through his tear-dimmed eyes he saw the blood welling up in a cut running along the palm of his left hand. He quickly closed his hand tightly, putting pressure on the cut. It hurt, but he’d learned to deal with pain like this. This wasn’t his first cut and something told him it wouldn’t be his last._

_A soft whine and the touch of a cold, wet snout brought his attention back to his friend. Sparky was looking at him with big eyes, wagging her tail nervously._

_“Sit, Sparky,” Jason said. He would have to take care of the shards strewn about the floor before Sparky could come out from under the table. He remembered the last time she had injured one of her paws. His father hadn’t been happy. Jason had to promise to make sure it wouldn’t happen again, because Willis wouldn’t pay for the bandages and medicine a second time. The wound had become infected and Sparky almost died. Jason had learned his lesson and vowed to be more careful in the future._

_Only once Sparky settled down and Jason was certain she wouldn’t follow him, did he turn back towards the rest of the room. Strewn across the floor next to the table he could see the glass shards of the glass bottle he’d heard shatter earlier. He hadn’t realized it had been so close. In the soft light of the street lamps he could barely make out the shards._

_With careful and slow steps, he maneuvered himself through the chaos. He arrived at the kitchen cabinets without acquiring any more injuries and swiftly wet a towel and wrapped it around the cut on his hand. Then he grabbed the dustpan below the sink and quickly swept up the shards._

_He put them in the designated trash can and put away the dustpan, before he took another cloth from the kitchen cabinet and cleaned up the spilled liquid on the floor. He had barely finished cleaning up and turned to Sparky, when she already came running towards him._

_“No, Sparky! I said stay,” Jason reprimanded her, but she ignored his words and went on wagging her tail and pocking her snout all over him. Jason let out a laugh, trying to gently push her away when she started to lick his cheek again. “Stop it.”_

_Sparky stopped dead, her ears pointing up. But she hadn’t stopped because of Jason’s command. A soft groan, coming from the room connected to the living room had gained both their attention. Jason waited for a second, hoping he’d imagined the sound, but only a few seconds later he heard it again, this time louder and more coherent._

_Apparently, his parents hadn’t left him alone in the apartment after all. Or, at least not both of them._

_“Mum?” Jason called into the returned silence. When he didn’t get an answer, he made his way to the room._

_“Mum?” he repeated as he slowly pushed the door open, keeping his injured hand behind his back, in hopes of not worrying her – if she even was awake. The room was just as dark as the rest of the apartment. The soft light of the city illuminating the room enough for him to see the reason for the earlier argument littered across the floor of his parent’s bedroom. The dreaded syringe was lying by the bed, glinting in the light, like it was mocking Jason. Such a little thing and yet capable of destroying so much._

_There were only few and far between occurrences where Jason and his father were of the same opinion, but his mother’s addiction was one of them, even if their reasoning differed. For Willis, it was the cost of his mother’s addiction, saying it was too expensive and he couldn’t pay for the apartment, food and the drugs. For Jason, it was the fact that he saw what the drugs really did to his mother. How they slowly destroyed the fragile figment they called family more and more._

_But when his gaze wandered to the bed and came to rest on the form lying there, he let out a relieved breath. As much as it hurt to see his mother like this, he was thankful she was groaning and moving sluggishly because of the blossoming bruises on her arms and not because of the relief of another shot in her system._

_“Jason, sweetie,” she mumbled, slowly disentangling herself from the blanket and stretching one of her arms in his direction. “Come here.”_

_Jason walked over to the bed and took the outstretched hand into his much smaller and uninjured one, but his mother only shook her head. “The other one.”_

_“Why?” Jason evaded and pulled back his hand. “Do you need some water?” He tried to change the subject, hoping his mother was still too out of it from the argument and her high earlier in the day._

_“Jason, please,” she said, her voice growing stronger and he knew she wouldn’t let this go. Begrudgingly he lifted his injured hand and laid it in hers. With careful movements, she unwound the cloth and inspected the cut. It had already stopped bleeding and only throbbed a little anymore. He told her as much, but despite his reassurance she still got that look on her face. It was full of sadness and made her look so much worse than when she smiled. It never failed to sadden Jason as well and make him feel even worse for being responsible for it. He would have to conceal his injuries better in the future._

_“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she whispered and pressed a soft kiss in his palm, before she wrapped the cloth back around._

_“It’s okay,” he said, because it felt like the right thing to say. And really, it was okay. It could be worse, so much worse. He knows that, by watching all the people he sees on the streets and some of their neighbors. This may not be like it was in the books he and his mother read at the library sometimes, but it was still okay, because this was normal and he also had his mom and Sparky and the trips his dad sometimes took him along._

_The look on his mother’s face intensified and Jason cringed inwardly. He was always making things worse._

_Suddenly, his mother pushed herself upward and scooted back, making more space on the bed. She laid back down and, now with a soft smile that eased Jason’s conscience, she gestured for him to come into her open and waiting arms._

_He quickly scrambled up onto the bed and let himself be engulfed by his mother’s embrace. They stayed like that for a long while and Jason reveled in the warmth of her arms around his back._

_“I’ll never be like him, I promise,” Jason mumbled into the fabric of his mother’s shirt. It was quiet for a long while and for a short moment Jason thought that maybe she hadn’t heard him, but then she pulled back a bit and cupped his cheek with one of her hands._

_“I know you won’t,” she said, her eyes glistening and looking at him with an emotion Jason couldn’t identify. “I love you so much, Jason.”_

_“I love you too, mum,” he said, watching her smile return even brighter than before. She wrapped her arms around him again, pressing light kisses on top of his head and they lapsed back into a comfortable silence._

_The continuous circles his mother kept stroking over his back and the sound of her heart beating next to his ears, slowly lulled him to sleep, his eyes growing heavier. He could feel himself slipping away into the land of dreams just when his mother’s voice roused him again._

_“Look, Jason,” she whispered her delicate voice wafting through the silence, while she continued raking her fingers through his curls, “the stars are out.” Half asleep, he turned away from her, looking upwards, already knowing what he would find._

_Way up high, all over the ceiling and floating in the air throughout the room he could see the gentle glow of dozens of tiny lights. Jason couldn’t remember a time when these lights hadn’t been there. All his life they had appeared whenever he’d been curled up together with his mother at night when he couldn’t – or didn’t want to – sleep on his own. Over the years the little lights had become a sign of safety and calm for him. When they were shining, he knew there was nothing to fear._

_With the little lights watching over them, it didn’t take too long before Jason was nodding off again, only barely registering his mother’s voice as she whispered into his hair. “Sweet dreams, my little firefly.”_

***

Jason watched the clouds passing by with a sullen look. Through the cities pollution he could barely make out the foggy giants rushing by, but the sky had been darkened by a heavy cloud cover before the sun had fully set, so the possibility for rain was high. 

Though he hoped he was wrong. 

A long sigh escaped him as he continued to watch the sky, yearning for what was hidden behind them. He wasn’t dumb enough to think that he could actually see the stars with all the light pollution and whatnot from the city, but on a high enough roof he could be lucky enough to glimpse at a few of them. He yearned for the safe feeling they still invoked in him. After all, the last time the air around him had been filled with little lights had been many years ago, and he missed them dearly. 

Just like he missed his mother and everything else that had separated him and the people he had always watched back when he’d still had a place to call home. When someone would have told him, he would be one of them within the span of only a few years, he would have laughed right at their stupid faces.

A shiver ran down his back and he huddled closer into the small space he had found himself in an alley close to the abandoned apartment complex he often spent his nights in. But he wasn’t dumb enough to go back there yet. Not while Marcus and his brainless tag-alongs could still be looking for him. He should have lost them a few hours ago, but he wouldn’t risk the meager possessions he still owned to find out. He only hoped he would be spared a night full of rain and cold and wet clothes.

After a few more minutes staying hidden in his hideout, his stomach started rebelling against his decision to stay where he was for the rest of the night. He hadn’t had anything to eat for almost two days now and his poor attempt to steal something from Marcus… Well, it’s pretty obvious how that one turned out. Now he was sitting in the cold, without anything to eat and tired and even more hungry than before due to the subsequent chase.

He massaged his belly and begrudgingly accepted that he wouldn’t be able to sleep like this. Not while he would also have to handle the cold temperatures on top of the hunger. He rose from the concrete floor and started searching for something, anything, to eat.

It wasn’t until almost one hour later that he stumbled upon his jackpot. Because standing there, all alone and as if screaming at him to do it, was the sleek and black shining form of the _batmobile_. 

At first Jason wasn’t sure if it really was the real deal, but at a closer look he could confirm it was. With the shiny lacquer and the expensive looking rims and tires – it had to be the real one. The tires alone had to be worth a fortune, enough to feed ten of him for a month or more. He wasn’t sure if he should listen to the voice in the back of his mind, but somehow it sounded right. With every step he took closer to the car – could it even be called a car? It looked more like a tank – he felt like it was the right decision. 

So, when he returned to the alley with a tire-iron in hand and the batmobile was still standing there as if waiting for him, he gripped the tool in his hand with a firmer grip and set to work.

Maybe he wouldn’t go to sleep with an empty stomach tonight after all. Maybe he wouldn’t for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on [tumblr](https://pudding-bretzel.tumblr.com/).


End file.
